


Birthday Traditions

by forest_of_dean_winchester



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek's still an Alpha, Disregard to Season 3, Fluff, Future Fic, It's seriously so fluffy, M/M, Smut, With a nice bit a smut, feel-good fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:51:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1693922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forest_of_dean_winchester/pseuds/forest_of_dean_winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek have a birthday tradition. Derek is happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this started as a songfic based on "Locked out of Heaven" by Bruno Mars, but then allergies hit. I felt like shit and needed something to cheer me up. Thus, an extremely fluffy Sterek fic with a bit of smut unfurled and this is what I give you. Let me know what you think!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, the end notes give a better timeline if you need it.

Derek wakes up lying on his stomach, one arm shoved under the pillow beneath his head and the other flung over the empty space of the mattress beside him. He starts for a moment when he finds the bed empty, but the familiar rabbit-fast heartbeat drifts to him through his haze of sleep. He sniffs and smells frying bacon, scrambled eggs, and Stiles' shampoo. He turns onto his back, content to stay in bed just a little longer. He deserves it, Stiles does too, after the day they had yesterday. Derek smirks at the ceiling, recalling the previous day's sordid events.

At the beginning of their relationship, Derek and Stiles had agreed that they would take off for their birthdays and spend them with only each other, celebrating with family at a later date. It quickly became less of a birthday celebration and more of a how-much-sex-do-you-think-we-can-have-before-we-pass-out celebration, which they were both one hundred percent okay with.

Yesterday, Derek turned thirty-six.

It was surprising how quickly the years passed after he finally learned to forgive himself for what happened to his family. He had Stiles to thank for that.

The kid, when he was still a kid, had screamed himself hoarse multiple times trying to make Derek pull his shit together and stop hating the world. It worked eventually, especially after the fourth time Stiles made him recite all of his good qualities into a mirror until Scott reassured Stiles that Derek actually believed what he was saying about himself.

On more than one occasion, Derek had gone to the loft and found Stiles waiting with copious amounts of food and the Lord of the Rings trilogy. The Hobbit trilogy was added to list when the movies were released. They didn't really talk, unless they were commenting on some aspect of the movie, but Derek would wake with a softer edge to his shoulders the next morning. He caught himself laughing more during pack meetings. He bought a tv and let the pack have sleepovers at the loft in the summer. They even took a long weekend at Jackson's beach house during the teenagers final Spring Break of high school.

Over the years, Derek has actually become happy again. He loves his pack, his new family. They all think he's a good Alpha (all but Jackson have told him so, but Lydia assures him that Jackson does look up to Derek), and Derek feels as though he's living up to the standards his parents would expect of him. So he's content with the person, the Alpha, he has become.

At the very least, he has Stiles. Beautiful, lanky, smart-mouthed Stiles. Stiles, who drove two hours on the tenth anniversary of the fire and let Derek yell at him to help him vent in the only way he knew how back then. Stiles, who marched into the police station and announced to the entire police force that he had started dating Derek Hale. The Sheriff was at lunch at the time, so one of the deputies locked him in a holding cell until he got back. A police cruiser pulling up to the loft with Stiles in the back wasn't something Derek thought he would ever see. Thinking of Stiles reminds him of yesterday. Derek smiles again at the memory.

They had spent all day in bed, sharing multiple orgasms as per tradition. Later in the evening, Stiles had finally complained about his empty stomach and ordered a pizza. They dressed long enough to answer the door and eat before Derek was mouthing at Stiles already bruised neck.

Stiles had groaned at him, feigning exhaustion as the Alpha slipped Stiles' sweatpants off his hips and threw them over his shoulder. He nosed at Stiles growing erection, mouthing kisses around the base of the shaft. Derek swallowed him down at the same time he pressed two fingers into Stiles. Stiles let out a strangled moan at the sudden sensation.

Slipping his mouth off the younger man, Derek hummed at finding Stiles loose and wet from earlier in the day. Derek sat up, with a noise of protest from Stiles, before settling his back against the arm of the couch. He crooked a finger at Stiles who scrambled across the couch and onto his lap.

Derek won't admit it aloud, but Stiles riding him is his favorite position. Stiles likes it whenever Derek bends him over any available surface and just _takes_ , but Derek likes that Stiles can control the pace like this. Derek loves being able to sit back and watch the waves of emotion that crash over Stiles' face with each movement he makes. 

Derek loves the way Stiles bites his swollen lip and squeezes the Alphas shoulders as he sinks onto Derek. He pants into Derek's mouth with each inch before pulling him into a sloppy kiss when he's fully seated. The way Stiles rolls his hips as he pulls himself almost completely off Derek drives the werewolf insane.

Derek will let him control the pace for awhile, until a deep flush has worked its way over Stiles' pale skin. He'll lazily roll his hips on each downward thrust until Stiles is whispering his name over and over, so close but needing something only Derek can give him.

Only then will Derek plant his feet in the couch cushions and brutally thrust up into Stiles' pliant body. His harsh thrusts will send Stiles over the edge, and Derek will follow right after at the sound of Stiles moaning his name.

Afterwards, Derek will push his fingers through Stiles' sweaty hair as the human slowly comes back to himself before carrying them both to the bathroom and showering. They'll collapse against their mattress before curling into each other. Stiles always falls asleep first with Derek pressing soft kisses across his shoulders. Derek will drift off to the sounds of Stiles' quiet breathing.

Usually he wakes with Stiles' head pillowed on his chest and their legs tangled together. He ponders at this morning's lack of Stiles and decides to get out of bed. Derek stretches his muscles as he sits up, sheets pooling around his waste. He pushes the sheets off, climbing from the bed to find a pair of sweatpants. He pulls on the first pair he finds after rummaging through his dresser and heads towards the kitchen.

Derek smiles, leaning against the door frame, when he finds Stiles in the kitchen. He's dressed identically to Derek, pants riding dangerously low as he sways his hips. He's humming to himself as he stirs what looks like pancake batter but brings the spoon to his face, using it as a microphone and belting out the next lyric.

“'Cause your sex takes me to paradise. Yeah, your sex takes me to paradise and it show-OH-OH-OHS! Yeah, yeah, yeah!” He's slightly off-key, but he's stirring rhythmically along as he sings. He's just starting on the next verse when Derek speaks up.

“Bruno Mars?”

“Holy shit!” Stiles squawks and drops the bowl. Derek catches it just before it hits the floor. He doesn't want a repeat of last month. It's surprisingly difficult to clean pancake batter from hardwood flooring.

Stiles makes an indignant huff when he catches Derek laughing at him and jerks the bowl back. “I never should have introduced you to iTunes.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Stiles, I bought an iPod when I was in New York with Laura almost fifteen years ago.”

“True, but the only music you had on it was from the seventies.”

“I  _like_ music from the seventies.”

“And I like curly fries. But I also know that I'll eat a potato no matter how it's fried. See? Variation in tastes. It's healthy.” Stiles waves the spatula he was using to pour batter as he speaks. Derek takes it from him. The little droplets of batter flying across the kitchen make him cringe.

“I'm not sure if we can call your diet healthy.”

“Hey, you're the beauty of this relationship. I'm the brains. Therefore,” Stiles pops a piece of bacon into his mouth. “High cholesterol for me.”

“How about everything in moderation?” Derek asks, using his hip to push Stiles out of the way so he can take over on pancakes. Stiles always burns the edges.

“Well, not everything, right?” Derek jerks against the stove when he feels Stiles smack his ass. He turns, pining Stiles against the opposite counter.

“Is that an invitation?” He watches Stiles wince as he presses against the counter.

“Mmm, I'm a little sore.” He looks down then, away from Derek's heated gaze, as if he's embarrassed. Derek hooks a finger under Stiles' chin, tilting it back up.

“How 'bout I blow you after we eat?” He noses along Stiles' jaw, scraping blunt teeth along the shell of his ear.

Stiles sighs into his hair. “I think I could manage that,” Derek hums in agreement, inhaling the scent of cinnamon, syrup, and pure  _Stiles_ in the dip of his collarbone. “Um, Derek?” Slowly, the werewolf straightens, looking down at his human with one brow raised. Stiles is sporting a shit-eating grin that makes Derek lift his eyebrow higher.

“Yes, Stiles?”

“I think the pancakes are burning.” Derek groans, slumping his head against the cupboard above him as Stiles laughs his way back to the stove. Derek can't help the grin that spreads over his own face at the sound.

 

* * *

 

Awhile later, Derek is laying between the vee of Stiles legs, head pillowed on his arms as he rests on Stiles' stomach. Stiles has one hand still tangled in his hair and a soft smile on his face.

Derek loves the intimacy between the two of them, craves it, especially on quiet mornings like this one. Of course, the next supernatural dick could show up today, but it's become more of a biannually occurrence that they sort out in a few days. Derek is content to relax and enjoy the time he has alone with Stiles when they can get it.

Derek wonders if Stiles has mellowed over the years because of him or just natural progression?He wonders whether the flailing limbs and nervous ticks were a side effect of being a teenager. He still has a few. His leg bounces constantly, and there's always something in his mouth (pens and related objects), but Stiles is much calmer now. He rarely falls over nothing anymore unless Derek is being distracting with his “stupid werewolf hotness” as Stiles calls it. Derek hopes that he's helped Stiles turn into the wonderfully amazing person that he is, who loves Derek unconditionally, as much as Stiles has made Derek the man, the Alpha, he is today.

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You're thinking way too loudly post orgasm. I'm normally the one with the racing thoughts.”

“Sorry. You make my thoughts race.” Stiles snorts, slapping one hand over his face and giggling into it.

“How did I fall in love with you? You are  _so_ corny.” Derek bites his hip playfully.

“I believe it was my devilish good looks, right? Fantastic ass? Was it the abs? Or maybe the beard?” He's grinning playfully through his lashes at Stiles, who is still shaking softly with laughter.

“I am such a good influence on you. I like when you talk,” He runs soft fingers over Derek's cheek before moving them back to his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Derek sighs. “When you joke.”

“I like when you scream my name during sex.” Derek deadpans. Stiles dissolves in another fit of giggles.

“You stupid, narcissistic werewolf. Of course you do. Way to ruin a moment, by the way,” Derek cuts him off with a firm kiss, crawling up Stiles' body before laying on him again. Stiles eyes gleam with happiness when Derek pulls away. “Okay, I forgive you.”  
“I'm glad.” He rolls so Stiles is draped over his chest now, chin cradled in one hand.

“I wonder what the pack would say if they knew you talk this much.”

“Nothing. It's not as easy to banter back and forth with them like I can with you.” He noses at Stiles' jaw again.

“Are you going to be brooding and silent at your birthday party this weekend, then?” Derek groans, throwing his head back against the pillow.

“Do we have to go?”

“Derek, we have been together for almost ten years. Are you seriously telling me that you still hate social gatherings?” Derek gives him a pointed look. “Even with a ray a sunshine like me at your elbow?” Derek scoffs at that.

“It's not that. I just—sometimes I can't believe I made it to thirty-six. When we first met, before we could actually tolerate each other,” Stiles snorts again. “I figured I would probably go out like my family. Killed by hunters or by rogue werewolves. I never really believed I would have a future, and certainly not one with someone as amazing as you.” Stiles opens his mouth to speak, but Derek places a gentle hand on his cheek and the younger man quiets. Derek strains to kiss his forehead before speaking on.

“Stiles, you have made my life so much better, happier...easier, and I plan on spending the rest of mine trying to make you just as happy.” Stiles moves forwards then and closes his mouth over Derek's.

They move against each other, happily accepting everything the other has to offer. It's not about sex, not this time. They simply revel in the feel and press of each other. That's another thing Derek loves: making out with Stiles.

When Stiles pulls back, it's to give Derek one of the biggest smiles the werewolf has ever seen grace his handsome face. Stiles pecks him softly on his nose before moving to lay beside Derek. He curls into the Alpha's side, throwing one arm over Derek's chest and hooking their legs together. Derek is on the verge of sleep when Stiles speaks.

“Oh, by the way,” Stiles tilts his head back to look at Derek. Derek pushes against his pillow, twisting his face towards Stiles. “Love you too, Sourwolf.” Derek grins, kissing Stiles' temple before they both fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> So my headcanon for Teen Wolf is that Derek returns to Beacon Hills at the age of 24. Stiles is 16 at the time, so that makes Derek 8 years older than him. Therefore, Derek is 36, and Stiles is 28. They started dating when Stiles turned 18 and have been together for the last 10 years. They still fight supernatural baddies when they have to, but otherwise their life is pretty quiet. 
> 
>  
> 
> I haven't decided yet, but I might write more Sterek fics in this 'verse. I have a few more Sterek stories, but I loved how this one turned out. Let me know what you guys think, and maybe I'll write more soon! Thanks to all who read! 
> 
> -Maddy


End file.
